


A Personal Invitaation to Art Club

by Quineviere



Category: Spider-Man and the X-Men, X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: M/M, cocky smile-based seduction techniques
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-24
Updated: 2014-09-24
Packaged: 2018-02-18 14:36:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2351894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quineviere/pseuds/Quineviere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hellion and Eye-Boy are in Spider-Man's new class. This is a ficlet where I explore the homoerotic-frustration-time-bomb that is Julian Keller via the oddly attractive Trevor Hawkins.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Personal Invitaation to Art Club

**Author's Note:**

> I'm doing this thing called preemptive shipping. I was looking at what there was on the cover, and there were two of my faves. (Happy Bisexuality Visibility Day, here are some visible dudes who have shown or mentioned attraction to women also showing attraction to one another!)  
> This story is full of nuances so I'll probably rewrite it soon. But this is my mission. I wanna get things out there. Make people ship the ship. Make ripples in the water before the pool is even open, ya know?  
> 'Sides, Jason Latour always favourites or replies to tweets I send him. I'm makin' it BIG TIME.  
> I call it "Trulian"

Hellion sits still, very still, staring at the front of the class. He watches Mr. Parker--fucking’ Spider-Man--ramble on about responsibility or something; “great power “yakkity-yak-yak. His mind is on the paper below him, wide ruled in the back of a spiral notebook, doodling like crazy. He’s drawn every costume improvement he can think of for Mr. Parker, he’s drawn what No-Girl thinks she’d look like--her thoughts aren’t broadcast to the entire class, but through his psionics, Julian can pick some of it up.  
She doesn’t think she’s pretty. It’s a shame. Julian thinks that to himself as he looks over to her, as she reads a note Trevor has passed to her. She thinks something back to him, and he nods.  
Julian keeps staring at Eye-Boy. What a weirdo. Trevor Hawkins, snooping around everything. Trevor Hawkins, knowing everything. Trevor Hawkins--what kind of power is eyes? Julian thinks he should lend some to Ruth.  
Trevor sees him looking, of course, and looks at him with his face eyes. He winks the left half, and with that, Julian turns to look at Mr. Parker again. Weirdo.  
Later, Julian sits on the couch in Study Room B watching Dog Cops with Santo. Santo says something stupid that Julian tunes out in favour of the oh-so-sonorous barking of Sherlock Bones. He can feel somebody looking at him, and it’s less than a second before Eye-Boy is sitting in the chair catty-corner to him, smiling and holding a tablet.  
Sherlock Bones is the best detective ever. Julian watches the TV intensely, but knows he’s being watched as well.  
Trevor sighs. “You’re uncomfortable and it started when I sat down. You do know I’m looking at everyone else too, right? Funny that you didn’t think of that.”  
Julian knocks the chair over with a small wave of his robo-hand.  
Julian hates this guy so much. He thinks he knows everything, but he’s like fifteen! Dumb fucking Eye-Boy, psychoanalyzing everything to death, waiting for Julian to fall for his so-called “charms.” Why would Julian ever falter for some creepy secret-knowing smile? It’s creepy. It’s weird. He likes people who don’t give a fuck about him. That was the whole thing with Laura. Why does Trevor care?  
The chair hits the ground, jostling around as Trevor tries to turn himself over. The fifty-eyed freak gets up and walks over to one of the printers in the corner of the study room, taking something that came out a minute ago.  
He stands there and folds it up, and then the next thing Julian knows, it flies into his lap, and Eye-Boy has disappeared. Julian opens it and floats it in front of his face, furrowing his brows. It’s a drawing of him drawing.  
“Join the Art Club! Mondays at 5 PM, art classroom 3. It’ll be fun!” it reads, and in the corner there is a hand, in the green Julian’s telekinetic constructs appear, and a question mark. It’s a personal invitation.  
Trevor “Eye-Boy” Hawkins is fucking hitting on him.  
Julian gets up. He has to stop this.  
The clock says 4:45. Julian jumps off Santo’s knee, flying at the momentum, making a beeline for the art classrooms. He flies through the theatre, causing Anole to yell “Run, Forrest, Run!” at him as he passes.  
He calls back to Vic, sneering. “Very funny, Elphaba!” Their friendship is based entirely on insults and sass.  
He flies in through the open door of Art Classroom 3, landing and letting his hands catch up to his wrists. Trevor smiles at him, just as smug as usual.  
“You came! And you’re early.”  
“Dammit, Hawkins, do you have any emotions besides ‘douchebag?’” asks Julian, walking up to him.  
“And you have more besides ‘grumpy,’ but I don’t see you using them.” Trevor looks up at him, one eyebrow cocked in the air.  
“What is your problem?”  
“Your abs.”  
“See, I-- what?”  
“Your abs.”  
“Are you joking? You think I have nice abs?  
“Nice everything. Except manners. You have horrible manners.”  
“You’re one to talk.”  
“Whatever,” says Trevor, shrugging. “The point is, you’re standing really close so if you don’t reciprocate I’d appreciate it if you stepped back because like, do you see yourself? I do. It’s distracting.”  
Hellion is so angry and confused that he doesn’t even care what he’s doing when he pushes Trevor up against the wall, kissing him with more force than is necessary. All of Trevor’s eyes shut when he relaxes into it. Hellion feels so much relief. He wonders if it’s his adolescent sexuality, or the fact that he’s not being stared at. Trevor intwines his hands with the metal that Julian forgot were hanging at his sides.  
Julian pulls back. “Infuriating people is a horrible seduction technique. I want to strangle you as much as I do kiss you.”  
“I know. You’re putting a lot of pressure on my neck as we speak. The thing about psionic powers is that they tap into the subconsciou--”  
Trevor was cut off by another kiss. Even if he wanted to protest (he didn’t, no way in hell), he couldn’t, because Julian had pinned him to the wall telekinetically.  
Trevor mused about the circumstances that led to this. Right place at the wrong time, he thought. Maybe... Maybe they just had good hand-eye coordination.


End file.
